Linza's Journal
Linza's Journal • Skyrim is, as the name suggests, a journal which belongs to Linza Nigladius, aka The Last Dragonborn. In there she keeps track of most events which she comes to witness or participate in Skyrim, beginning from her near execution in Helgen to the current day. Linza also keeps notes on everyone she meets, both friends and foes. It is actually one of many journals Linza's kept through the years: she has one for each province she comes to visit. For obvious reasons, Linza's chosen to make this journal's cover the same as the Book of the Dragonborn's. Location *Linza Nigladius' personal journal, she usually keeps it either in her bag or in one of her houses across Skyrim. The book possesses two powerful Resist Damage enchantments, making it resistant to both physical and magical attacks. Content Events= Sundas, 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201 *This is the 3rd of Heart Fire — or would that be Hearthfire? Everyone seems to spell it different —, year 201 of the Fourth Era. It has been over two weeks since Helgen, but I still cannot drive my thoughts away from my near execution at the hands of the Empire, and as such decided to write right from the beginning of my life in Skyrim: from the "Helgen day". It's funny, but I can't remember how the Empire captured me. I came to Skyrim once I heard about the rebellion. I wanted to offer Ulfric Stormcloak my support: the Empire is now but a shadow of its former self, and it can no longer keep the Aldmeri Dominion at bay. Right now they are puppets, and their elven overlords are the puppet masters. However, in the end it felt like all I'd done had been for nothing. Stripped of my armor, taken prisoner, these were to be the closing days of my life, or that's how it was supposed to be if the gods were to follow General Tullius' little schedule. With Ulfric captured and about to face execution, both me and the last hope to free Tamriel from the Thalmor were going to die. Luckily, the gods didn't. As an imperial soldier pushed towards the block, I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "I know the way, you son of a bitch" — that remark earned me a hard slap from him. The other prisoners laughed at my remark as I spat a few blood drops on his face. I remember being afraid. My entire body was trembling. The soldier forced me to my knees and into position, the side of my head was pressed against the cold stone. As the headsman moved his axe, I started breathing quicker. That's when it happened. Out of nowhere, a black thing swooped down from the skies and landed on the tower right behind the executioner. People screamed. Someone yelled "Dragon!". That's when I opened my eyes again and felt my heart stop for a few seconds: in front of me, on the top of the tower, a gigantic winged monster looked down at me. A dragon. This sight brought me back memories of my early life. Dragons had always fascinated me. As an orphan, one of my greatest desires had been that: to be a dragon, so I could fly wherever I wanted, and no one would ever be able to hurt me. The dragon roared and the headsman was thrown away by a kinetic force, his body reduced to pieces as he hit the wall of another tower. Everything from there on was a huge mess. Me and Ralof managed to escape Helgen together, though we had to fight our way through a few imperial soldiers. Though I dislike the Empire, I can't deny they have much better armor than the Stormcloaks, and as such I did not hesitate to pick up one of their officers' armor, alongside his sword since I really hate axes. By the time we reached the end of that cave underneath Helgen, we'd killed at least a dozen of imperial soldiers, a few frostbite spiders and even a bear. That was a day to remember. *A few hours later, we arrived at Riverwood. Though in initially he'd suggested that we split up, I argued that since we were both tired, sticking together would be safer. True to my suggestion, in the way we came across a bandit campsite. We were lucky that there were only three of them. One was wearing a full set of iron armor, and though the chestplate was too oversized — not totally unanticipated, since the one wearing it had been a male orc —, the gauntlets, boots and helmet fit perfectly. From another bandit, I picked a studded armor. Not a very good protection to be honest, but enough to keep me warm and alive as long as I was quick on my feet. From the third bandit, I got a banded iron shield and a steel sword. I don't like shields: they're too big, clunky and heavy to carry around, but since my armor sucked, I decided to keep it for a while. In the way to Riverwood, we had to fight three wolves. I skinned them for their pelt. Riverwood was ran by Ralof's sister, a Nord woman named Gerdur. *Just a few steps into the settlement and I already picked a fight. A man named Sven was being too harsh on his mother, an old Nord woman who was claiming to have seen a dragon: big as a mountain and black as a nightmare. The same dragon that destroyed Helgen. This man was calling his own mother crazy. Though I understand how mad such a claim may be, I could never understand how people can talk like that to their relatives. Before I could even realize, me and Sven were already engaged in a fist fight, despite Ralof's attempts to have us calm down. The result was pretty obvious: as I walked away from Sven's unconscious body, Ralof greeted me again with an eye roll and we continued our way to meet his sister. Gladly, Gerdur was a nice woman: she offered me food and a bed, which I didn't want to accept, but was too tired and hungry to deny. Tirdas, 19th of Last Seed, 4E 201 *After waking up, I packed my things to leave. I'd stayed in Riverwood for over a day, and though both Ralof and Gerdur assured me several times that my presence there didn't bother them, I felt bad since I'd been eating her food and occupying one of her beds. At least I managed to help people around Riverwood: I helped Alvor, Hadvar's — one of the imperial soldiers at Helgen, the one reading the list of prisoners. As it seems, Hadvar was one of the few who managed to survive Helgen, but had already left in his way to Solitude — uncle, who was also the blacksmith, to which he paid me a bit of gold. I also helped Faendal, a wood elf. He asked me to deliver a letter to someone named Camilla and say it was from Sven, but I managed to convince him not to do that. I even helped with small tasks around Riverwood, such as getting wood or food. I don't like hunting: killing non-aggressive things, animals included, simply does not feel right to me, but in this case I knew it was necessary. Besides, these people had helped me so much, it was just right. By the time I'd left the town, no one had been awake. I sneaked out of Gerdur's house, careful not to wake anyone up, and took the north road to Whiterun. Back then, my intention had been to simply warn the jarl about the Riverwood being in danger. I found a wolf and three imperial soldiers with a prisoner on my way to Whiterun — needless to say, only the prisoner survived. I freed him and gave him some food, then he made his way to Windhelm and I continued my own to Whiterun. It took me only a couple of hours on foot until I came close to Whiterun. In the way, three warriors, two of them women, were fighting a giant. I did not hesitate to join them. Once the beast had been slain, we talked for a while. The names of the women were Aela and Ria, and the man was Farkas. From them, I learned about the Companions, an order of warriors which worked in a very similar way to the Fighters Guild of Cyrodiil, of which I served as master for a few years before I came to Skyrim. Since the Fighters Guild is not present in Skyrim, I passed on the guildmaster title. Though at first I was going to leave the guild, the other members and the new master made me an honorary member ranked as Guardian, which I accepted. And though I had no intention to join any guilds in Skyrim — my only goal in this land was to support Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak's rebellion —, the similarities to the Fighters' Guild got my interested, and before I realized I had already asked if I could join them. Someone named Kodlak Whitemane was their "Harbinger", which I figured out was their leader, was the one I had to seek in order to join their order. *One of the guards at the gate asked me what were my intentions in Whiterun. The city was "closed with the dragons about". I really should get rid of that habit of mine, but once again I couldn't hold my mouth, though this time to my credit it was not an insult. "You know dragons can fly, right? How do you expect to keep them out by closing the gates?" It was a fair question. Anyway, after a little chat, I finally convinced him to let me in after I told him I was in Helgen when the dragon attacked. I was excited about Whiterun: this was the city of Eorlund Gray-Mane, the best blacksmith in Skyrim, and one of the best in all Tamriel. Second only to myself, of course! Hah! Anyway, I made my way to Dragonsreach, the palace of Whiterun, and was stopped by a dark elf named Irileth, the jarl's housecarl — a bodyguard and a maid. I have this... problem with authority. Hate to have people telling me what to do. So when her annoying behavior towards me got her the "maidguard" nickname, she did not like it, but I swear I heard a chuckle from the nearest guards. At least Jarl Balgruuf was not a dick: as she prepared to get me arrested, the jarl laughed at the nickname and asked me what my visit was about. I hate authority figures: the Emperor, the generals of the Legion, most leaders of most guilds I had been a member of. But to his credit, Balgruuf is a decent man. I like him, and probably would fight against the Stormcloaks if they were ever to attack Whiterun. My plan had been to leave as soon as possible, but then Balgruuf asked me to help his court wizard with something dragon related, to which I reluctantly agreed, but only after he promised the reward would be worth it. *By the time I left Dragonsreach, I was a bit hungry. As I walked down the stairways that lead to the palace, my eyes caught a glimpse of it — the Skyforge! As a blacksmith myself, I had always dreamed about seeing this legendary forge myself. And here I was. I didn't even think twice before heading right there, but I did not dare walk up the stairs: Eorlund Gray-Mane surely was up there! What kind of amateur I'd look like if he asked me what my business there was and my answer was "just looking around". To my right, I could see Jorrvaskr, the hall of the Companions. I walked in and was immediately greeted by the sight of a fist fight between a dark elf and a Nord woman, whose names, Athis and Njada, I would learn in the nearby future. I also met Skjor, one of the leaders of the Companions, and asked him if I could join. His mockery response immediately got him a challenge from me, but he refused saying he did not have the time for that. Then I met Kodlak Whitemane in the basement. So far we had little to no reason to talk, but I really like him: hope in the future we can have a proper conversation. At first, I didn't like Vilkas, Farkas' brother. He was against me joining the Companions, but gladly I got my revenge early as Kodlak asked him to test me. To his credit, he really is a very good warrior, and the onlookers' reactions when he fell to the ground from a well timed kick to the knees is a proof of that, but he didn't show anything that lifts him above many other enemies I've faced over the years. Although he at first acted like I was a nuisance, I could see his point in doing so: challenging me to prove him wrong, not only in combat, but in feats. Well, challenge accepted. *I met Eorlund Gray-Mane at the Skyforge a few minutes after my little sparring session with Vilkas. I was nervous, but very excited as well: the man's steel was legendary. Vilkas asked me to take his sword to Eorlund. Usually I'd have refused as soon as he made it sound like an order, but this time I didn't. I wanted an excuse to visit the Skyforge without looking like a tourist. Eorlund is... Different from what I'd expected, but in a good way. Most famous people are assholes. Eorlund is not. He is, of course, very proud of his craft, but then again everyone should. There's no shame in acknowledging your own prowess. However, he did not act arrogant at the slightest. To his and my own surprises, we both talked for a long time after I delivered Vilkas' sword to him. At first it was about the Companions and how they actually didn't have a leader — the Harbinger was not a leader, but an adviser of the group, although from what I've seen Kodlak's position does make other members of the Companions think of him as a master to some extent. When we were done talking about the Companions, smithing came into after I asked Eorlund if he was a member as well. This one did take a long time. By the time we were done talking, there was already a different colour painting the sky above us. As I prepared to leave, Eorlund asked me to take Aela's shield to her. Unlike Vilkas, it did not sound like an order, because it was not: it was just an old man asking me a favor. I gladly did. *It took from me a few minutes to find Aela. She and Skjor were both in her room. I was a bit curious about that and she probably noticed it, but I didn't pay much attention to it. At first I thought of Skjor to be a dick, but like Vilkas, he was just an experienced warrior challenging new ones to be better. Unlike him, however, Skjor is a very exceptional fighter. Ours was a very good fight, though we were interrupted before I could knock him to the ground. I'm looking forward to a rematch. Aela is a fun woman. Perhaps a bit harsh at first, but she does not act like Vilkas or Skjor on that matter. Like Eorlund, she's just very proud on her skills. Skjor, Aela and me talked for a little before she called Farkas to show me my bed. I decided from the moment I stepped in that I would not be sleeping in there, though. Too many people for me to be comfortable. Then Farkas offered me a job, which I had to refuse saying Jarl Balgruuf had already asked me to go into Bleak Falls Barrow. That's when Farkas said there was a job to go into that same old ruin and recover a stolen object. A golden dragon claw. I accepted. *The sky was black when I left Jorrvaskr. I did not want to sleep in there, so I went to the Bannered Mare instead, but not before eating. During the dinner, I got to know the other 'whelps' — members of the Companions who aren't member of "the Circle", an inner group which is the closest thing the Companions have to a leader. I like Ria and Torvar, but Njada was getting under my skin: I knew from the moment I first talked to her that we would be exchanging punches very soon. Not a surprise that by the time I left Jorrvaskr, I'd knocked her and Athis, a dark elf who commented that "it looks like they're letting anyone in these days", to the ground. Me, Skjor and Aela talked for a long time. To them I revealed that I was a member of the Fighters' Guild and a former guildmaster of them. This did get Skjor's attention. He even challenged me to a sword fight, but I refused: I had to sleep since I would be going to Bleak Falls Barrows by the morning. However, we both agreed to have our fight later on. In the Bannered Mare, I met a Nord woman named Uthgerd. I didn't like her attitude at first, and soon enough we engaged into a fist fight for 100 gold. She is strong, but like most Nords she has little to no technique, confiding mostly on sheer strength and powerful blows. It was not a difficult fight. I'm still surprised by how well most people in Skyrim react at being knocked to the ground in a fist fight. Sven, Njada, Uthgerd, Torvar, even Ria and Athis — who are not Nords, but share much of their beliefs —, none of them had refused to accept they'd been bested. I like Skyrim. Middas, 20th of Last Seed, 4E 201 *So far, I didn't have time to look for the armor the imperials took from me after I was captured by them. Studded armor was not a very good choice, but I did not have another one since I had little money. For bringing news about the dragons, Jarl Balgruuf rewarded me with a steel armor. However, it would take at least a few days until Adrianne finished it, and I knew I wouldn't wear it anyway, so I gently refused it. The jarl then paid me a 100 gold. By the time I left for Bleak Falls Barrow, I had 260 Septims in my pocket. Getting there took long, but not longer than reaching the end of the ruins. Mostly because it was atop a mountain. In the way, I fought against several bandits, wolves, a giant and even a frost troll. This last one was hard to kill. Trolls regenerate and I suck at magic, so I had a hard time killing it, but eventually managed to. It was slow enough for me to easily dodge its attacks, but that one punch it landed on me took a few days to heal completely. Getting to the end of Bleak Falls Barrow was difficult and would take over a day. It was just luck that I remembered to bring enough food and water. Turdas, 21st of Last Seed, 4E 201 *Reaching the end of Bleak Falls Barrow was a nightmare. I heard stories about old Nord tombs long before I came to Skyrim and knew what to expect. The bandits and spiders were fairly easy to deal with, and the draugr, although not very strong, outnumber you by a large degree. I fought my way through them and several traps and old puzzles. It was not an easy thing, but I finally reached the legendary dragon door. I knew the golden claw had something to do with it, but when I tried to unlock the door, several poisoned arrows were shot. It was just luck that I heard the mechanism and threw myself at the floor, otherwise I'd probably have died right there. In the end of the ruin, I found it... A dragon wall. Although the Dragon Language should be impossible for me to understand, I did know the words of it: I could even hear its whisper, calling my name, I could read the glyphs — HET NOK FaaL VahLOK DeiNMaaR DO DOVAahGOLZ ahRK aaN FUS DO UNSLaaD RahGOL ahRK VULOM —, though I could not understand their meaning. I could remember the black dragon from Helgen Shouting the words "Yol" "Toor" "Shul" whenever it was about to breath fire, though once again I could not get a grasp on the meaning of such words. Back then I thought it was just my mind, but now I knew it was something else. I did not have much time to reflect on that, though, as I heard something behind me: another Draugr, though this one seemed stronger than the others. Regardless of how stronger it was, cutting its head off still did the trick. From him I recovered the "Dragonstone" Farengar asked of me along with the draugr's weapon and several valuable things in the chest near his coffin. Whoever this draugr had been in life, probably he was an important person. And he did not need it anymore. |-|People= Linza Nigladius This is me. I am amazing. |-|Notes= Dragons *The first time I saw a dragon was in Helgen. It was big as a mountain and had black scales. The most terrifying day of my life. It was a huge mess, and by then I had little time to think on the whereabouts of trying to kill it. However, by the time I met the second one, and that I managed to slay, I took several notes about it. First: the scales, hard as the may be, are not invulnerable. A well placed ebony arrow fired by a strong enough string will manage to pierce them to a extent, though one must know the more vulnerable spots. The inner portion of their wings is soft and can be easily damaged by both the sword and the spell, but landing an arrow in there is difficult. Their eyes is a very vulnerable spot and should be targeted if one gets the chance to. A dragon's fire or frost breath is essentially Dovahzul — Dragon Language — being Shouted. Therefore, if one manages to cut off or at least hurt enough their tongues, they'll be rendered unable to breath fire. A strong enough blade can cut through their scales, but it's not always true: elder and ancient dragons, the ones with golden and pink scales, will not be pierced by anything lesser than dragonbone. A weapon of a Daedric Prince such as Mehrunes Razor can do that, but then again most people don't walk around with such weapons. Staying away will not make you safe, the stream of their fire breath cannot reach you, but a massive fireball will. If one is a Dragonborn — or someone with experience in the Thu'um —, then the Dragonrend Shout may be used to bring them down. The Words are: JOOR ZAH FRUL. Meaning "Mortal", "Finite", "Temporary". Dragons are eternal, amortal and timeless, so the very concept of such things to them is impossible to comprehend. By forcing them to experience such things, the very things us mortals experience everyday of our lives, the fear and confusion that overtakes their spirits is too much for them to be able to keep flight. You focus all your anger and fear and throw it at them. By the time of my death, I'll leave this journal with the Greybeards. They do not wish to learn the Dragonrend Shout since it was created by mortals and the negative emotions that charge it conflicts with their very ideals of peace, but if something — Dragonborn or mortal — after me seeks to kill Alduin, then they'll not need to cast themselves to the past with an Elder Scroll to learn this Shout. 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